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Authors: Veronica Scott

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Twisting sideways in the pilot’s seat, he said, “You don’t talk much, do you, Doc?”

“Is being loquacious a requirement of the job?”

“No, of course not. Simply making an observation. I’ll escort you to your cabin now. Captain Fleming will be busy getting us out of orbit, so you’ll meet him later.”

“I’d rather see the sickbay first, if you don’t mind.” The idea of a claustrophobia-inducing cabin sent her anxieties into high gear. She wished she’d given this mad escapade more consideration before saying yes.

Jake was waiting for her to exit the tiny cockpit. “Sure, Doc, whatever you’d like.”

Emily allowed him to carry her larger bag, but kept possession of her medical kit as she crossed the busy hangar deck, external doors now closed tight. Jake hailed a crewman and handed off her go bag. “Have this sent to the chief steward on deck eleven and dropped in Dr. Shane’s cabin,” he said.

“You’re somewhat high-handed,” she observed, exiting the hangar bay and stopping in the Level 17 corridor to get a better grip on her medkit.
 

“I prefer to think of it as finely honed efficiency.” He gave her a grin.

She relaxed a bit as they passed only crew members in the hall. “Don’t try too much of it in my presence, whatever you call it.”

“I consider myself duly reprimanded.” His voice wasn’t penitent at all. Jake paused, and she had to avoid bumping into him. “Gravlift or moving stairs?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Gravlift, of course. My father may have real stairs in his home, but I haven’t forgotten my antigrav training. I’m not a civilian.”

“Although you
are
separated from the service,” he said mildly.
 

Hearing herself sounding unnecessarily prickly to someone who’d been nothing but cordial, she sighed and unbent a little, admitting, “I’ve missed antigrav actually.”

“The ship was outfitted with stairs, for those passengers who want the vintage feel, and also a set of tricked-out, simplified gravlifts for civilians who can handle themselves. Or like to think they can. For the crew we have the basic high-speed setup.” He showed her the access code, and Emily rode the silvery stream of antigrav to A Deck. Allowing her to precede him from the small landing ledge into the main corridor, Jake said, “This deck has the casino, shops, a restaurant, your sickbay—there’s a small, connected cabin for whoever has the overnight medical duty. Your personal cabin is on Level 11, officers’ country. We’ll be neighbors.”

Glancing at the wide corridor she was strolling through, lined with shops, spas and places to dine, Emily said, “She’s a big ship.”

“About the size of a battleship but with more amenities. Maeve can give you a schematic. I’ll be happy to escort you until you learn your way around.”

Deciding more of his company could be fun, Emily swallowed any retort about the implication she might get lost.

The closer they came to the casino, the more crowded it was. The passengers were dressed in gaily colored leisure wear, window shopping and moving in and out of the casino and eateries. Emily’s throat tightened, and she swallowed hard, fighting panic as Jake paused at the edge of the causeway.
 

“How many passengers?” Her voice was more of a croak.

“We had about two hundred coming into your planet, plus fifty in cryo sleep. The majority boarded here, for a total of about three thousand awake and maybe four hundred asleep. Harilon’s a major hub, but of course you know that. The cruise industry is a staple of your planet’s economy, right?”

Since it wasn’t a subject Emily knew much about, she nodded and made an indeterminate sound of agreement.

“We can carry thousands more, but this is still a shakedown cruise, so we’re traveling light. Not all the amenities are completed and running for the cruise.”

Feeling exposed, as if all three thousand sentients were there on A Deck, staring at her, Emily took a deep breath to steady herself. She marched through the crowd, not making eye contact with anyone, all her nerves on edge.
No one’s going to ambush you here.
Counting her breaths, she was conscious of Jake pacing behind her, his presence reassuring. He had her six. No one could come at her from behind.
There are no bombs or booby traps here.
 

Her companion received any number of friendly greetings, she noticed, but didn’t slacken his pace to engage in conversations. She crossed the threshold of the sickbay as if finishing a race, heaving a sigh of relief she couldn’t control. Nausea and vertigo warred in her body.

“Apparently, you have a patient already,” Jake said, touching her arm to direct her attention to the small waiting area.

She startled and gulped, pulse thrumming and cheeks flushing with embarrassment that he might have noticed her lack of control.

“Over there.” Jake pointed with his chin.

Emily glanced in the other direction, at the empty reception desk and the open doors of the three exam rooms beyond. Where in the seven hells was the staff? Patients shouldn’t be waiting to ambush the doctor the moment she came in. Come to think of it, she needed to find out if there was a staff entrance, so she could come and go unobserved.

“Dr. Shane,” Jake prompted, breaking into her panicky train of thought, left over from the anxiety-inducing encounter with the crowd outside. “Her Highness is waiting.”

The first patient is a princess
?
That sure sets the tone for the trip.
Emily swung around and walked toward the group, unsure who the patient was. Gripping her bag tightly, she hoped someone spoke Basic. Or any language she’d been hypnotrained in.

Only one person was seated—a young girl, long black hair elaborately dressed in braids and curls anchored with jeweled pins. Her pearlescent, ruffled robes shimmered in the lights. She resembled a doll, a miniature version of a queen, lacking only the crown. Emily guessed she was perhaps ten standard years, if she had a Terran heritage. Surrounding the child were three much older women and two massive bodyguards. No one in the party looked ill or in distress. One of the men took a protective stance in front of the girl as Emily approached.

She paid no attention to him but kept walking. The guard moved aside at the last second. Addressing the oldest woman standing directly behind the girl’s chair and seemingly in charge of this odd party, Emily introduced herself. “I’m Dr. Shane. Is the child unwell?”

“The Hereditary Princess Falyn of Tregallovan is quite well, thank you,” answered the woman, frowning as the little girl sneezed with perfect timing.
 

“Then what brings you to sickbay today? How may I be of assistance?”

“It’s my pet, Doctor, she’s sick.” Brown eyes glinting with unshed tears, the girl left her chair and glided around the bodyguard with steps so smooth she might have been on an antigrav cushion. She pulled a small creature of indeterminate origin from one heavily embroidered, bell-shaped sleeve and cuddled the animal close to her chest. “You must make her well for me.”

“I’m not a veterinarian,” Emily protested. Surprised, she turned to Jake. “You allow animals on board?”

He came to join her, also ignoring the bodyguards. “Good afternoon, Lady Scorsshyn.” He nodded to the old woman before answering Emily’s question. “Sometimes our guests bring their pets along with them, yes. As long as the ICC regulations about inoculations are observed, no worries.” He got down on one knee to address the child. Emily couldn’t decide if he was trying to be nice about not towering over Falyn, or showing deference to her rank. “What seems to be the problem, Your Highness?” Running one hand lightly over the animal’s fur, he said, “Your pet is soft.”

“She sneezes and won’t play or eat or anything.”

“Sounds like a virus. What do you think, Doc? Or maybe an allergy?” Jake gave Emily a meaningful glance. Lowering his voice as he rose, he spoke close to her ear. “You’re going to have to treat the little fluff, veterinarian or not.”

“Well of course. I’m not going to allow any creature to suffer if I can prevent it.” Emily was over her surprise now. At least this trip wasn’t going to be boring. “Bring the animal into the examination room where I can attempt to check the vital signs, see what, if anything, is wrong.”

Scorsshyn opened her mouth, but before she could object to a mere ship’s doctor ordering a princess around, Falyn obediently carried her pet into the smaller chamber. Her five companions had no choice but to follow.
 

“As her regent, I shall of course be close at hand in the examining room,” said the elderly lady, pushing past the others. Without making a protest, Jake, the two ladies and the guards clustered around the open portal. The ship’s AI smoothly extruded a waist-high table from the wall, and Falyn set her unusual pet on the gleaming surface.
 

Looking closely at the furry green creature as it shivered on the table, Emily counted six impressively clawed feet, a bushy tail stubbornly curled around the animal’s body, and two golden eyes glaring at her. The pet’s glossy fur, alert attitude and clear eyes projected a reassuring impression of good health so far. “Do we know what kind of animal this is?”

“The Hereditary Princess acquired the creature on the planet three days ago, from a street vendor who gained entry to the hotel lobby,” said the nearest bodyguard.

“Great,” Emily muttered. “How about those up-to-date inoculations now?”

“This animal is not native to the planet we are recently departed from,” announced the cool voice of the ship’s AI. “Nor is it any species in my database.”

“Less and less helpful by the minute.” Emily was wondering what placebo she could risk giving the little animal, to reassure the worried princess, when the pet in question sat up and proceeded to sneeze without stopping for about two minutes. All the humans in the room and at the door retreated with varying expressions of disgust and dismay. Only Falyn and Emily stayed close to the table.

Emily didn’t see any expelled matter, but of course germs, viruses and subnanos weren’t visible to the naked eye. She went to wash her hands, saying over her shoulder, “We could put the animal in quarantine for the flight.”

“No! You can’t take Midorri away from me—she’ll die.” Stamping her foot for emphasis, Hereditary Princess Falyn launched into a shrieking tantrum that had her attendants cringing and attempting to placate her wrath. Tears coursing down her cheeks, she pushed the ladies and bodyguards aside and pointed her shaking finger at Emily. “Make Midorri well so she’ll play with me.”

“A small application of synthsteroi will most likely quell the symptoms in a mammalian being and allow it to continue healing on its own,” the AI said. “Delivering recommended veterinary medication now.”

A miniature inject clattered into a tray attached to the wall next to the sink. Jake fished it out, handing the medication to Emily. She gave the pet a shot in what appeared to be its hindquarters, close to the tail, while the big bodyguard held it immobilized. A long green tongue snaked out and licked her hand, as if to show the pet bore her no ill will. Petting the animal’s emerald green fur for a moment, Emily said apologetically, “Sorry, Midorri, I know that wasn’t any fun for you. We’re done now, I promise.”

Apparently bearing her no permanent animosity, her unusual patient butted its head against Emily’s hand while crooning a low pitched humming sound.

Gathering the beast up, the guard deposited the fluff into Falyn’s waiting arms while the princess tapped her foot impatiently.

“I’ll want to know how Midorri is doing in a day or so,” Emily said.
 

“You’ll be summoned to the princess’s suite as required.” Lady Scorsshyn raised her eyebrows to the edge of her receding hairline. “Her Highness insisted it was only prudent to bring the creature here for its first examination, but such condescension on her part won’t be necessary in the future.”

“Do you require extra security to make your way to the cabin?” Jake asked, his voice deferential.

“I believe our own forces are sufficient.” Scorsshyn rested her hand on the princess’s shoulder and gave her a subtle push toward the door.

The Tregallovan royalty left with a great deal of conversation in their own language. Emily had been hypnotrained in a few of the Sectors’ common dialects but nothing as rarefied as Falyn’s native tongue. She turned to Jake. “I’m off to a great first day—undoubtedly broke fifteen or twenty regulations, not to mention a few medical canons.”

“Little girl with a sick pet.” He shrugged. “What could you do?”

“You don’t even need me for this situation. The AI is obviously prepared to diagnose and treat on its own.” Emily washed her hands again.

“Maeve.” His voice held a hint of impatience.

“What?”

“I did mention several times that the ship’s AI has a name—Maeve. She prefers to be addressed by name.”

“Not
Nebula Zephyr
?” She smiled at the absurdity of the naming conventions.

“No. Fleming brought Maeve over with us from the ship he commanded in our military days,” Jake said.

“How is that even possible?” Emily struggled to imagine what it would take to transfer an AI, let alone to implant an experienced one into a new ship. No one knew for sure, but scuttlebutt said the proprietary company that created an AI euthanized it when its ship was decommissioned or scrapped. Of course, most AI’s lived for centuries before meeting that fate.

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